Date with Death
by cleverusernamehere
Summary: As Hell falls into chaos, Vergil attempts to fight his way through Hell to return to the human world. The Grim Reaper offers to take him up. When they return, a deal is made. An alliance is forged. And, possibly more. VergilxOC
1. Escape

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters. I am merely borrowing Vergil so I can torture him to death. :D

**Rating: **K

**A/N: **I am taking some time off from Breaking Point, as I'm a little low on ideas, and I wanted to take some time and talk to the little plot bunny I met on my vacation time. :D This is our conversation. xD (I'll get to updating Breaking Point…eventually…)

The eldest son of Sparda hacked through teeming masses of devils that surged like a massive tidal wave in front of him, the high-pitched screams of death becoming increasingly quieter as the majority overloaded his acute hearing.

He was getting out. After all these years locked away in the highest-security dungeons after Dante defeated Mundus, he was going to make sure he made it back to the human realm.

Hell was in chaos.

Now, one would think hell is always chaotic. But this was _much _different. There was a great battle for power amongst the most formidable demons in hell, leaving their minions without someone to keep them in line, and they plagued the human world unchallenged. Vergil had considered dueling the other great demons for the position, but decided against the idea. His energy had slowly drained away all the time he had spent locked away. The charmed shackles that leeched away his demonic energy most definitely didn't help, either. So, what better time to escape than now?

Dante must be busy.

Finally, he had cleared a path to the portal that led to the sixth level. One down; only six more to go. Oh, weren't things looking up for him?

Unfortunately, a cloaked figure barred his way. He gripped the hilt of Yamato harder and glared at the shape.

"Want some help to up there?" the figure asked, its glowing crimson eyes glittering mirthfully at the chagrined half-demon. Vergil instantly knew who that figure was.

The figure was known as what we humans know to be the Grim Reaper, but she collected the souls of sinners who were condemned to hell. She was bound to the powerful devil Mephistopheles, once one of Mundus closest advisors, but great enemy. As many say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. He had seen her several times in Mundus' court when he was Nelo Angelo, when she was called to his bidding and collect those who had signed over their souls to him. It was common fact that she was one of the oldest demons in existence, as she was created to mirror God's angel of death when Lucifer deemed himself ruler of the Underworld and became the root to all evil. She was also proclaimed to be immensely powerful, as she had many a millennia to hone her fine skills, and could effortlessly defeat those in power, had it not been for the constricting seals that bound her to a master.

And he had never seen her face. She was quite cheery, considering her current post. Vergil rather despised it. It reminded too much of his own brother and mother.

"I don't want your sympathy, woman," he growled threateningly, his icy azure orbs burning with anger.

"You're in no position to issue such threats, Son of Sparda. So, you can take my sympathy whether you wish to or not."

With a wave of a slender, lovely hand, an invisible force snaked around Vergil's strong, lean body, and he became aware of his limbs growing numb. His beloved Devil Arm fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Now, I do believe you are going to need that. I will save it for you for a later time."

The being of the sword expelled into an explosion of many dark molecules, and flittered gracefully into the large sleeves of the female's robes. "I will call for it when we return to the human realm."

She turned her back to him, and with a swing of her great, and terribly beautiful, scythe, a pulsing, glowing blue portal appeared before them like a giant beacon, beckoning them to Vergil's first home.

"Vergil, Son of Sparda, Hell doesn't want you, and Heaven won't accept you. But, it seems, that Earth has a need for you. And I could get you there much faster than you could on your own. If you didn't die from exhaustion and starvation, or even by getting killed, you would die from old age."

"How would you know?" he muttered, still utterly infuriated at her interference.

Her voice suddenly became very weary and forlorn. "I have seen many brave, clever demons, many of whom I became rather fond of, even from afar, try to reach the world above. They all failed."

"My father did it."

"And would you believe he had my help?"

Vergil scowled even more fiercely. There seemed to be no way out of his current situation.

"Do not worry, Vergil. I don't think I would be bad company." She gazed around with her uncanny eyes, spotting an undulation of heavily armed devils.

"And I believe we should be going…"

Before Vergil could retort, she flickered in front of him. She pressed her slim fingers against his forehead, causing him to flinch from surprise and pain. Her fingers were tremendously cold against his warm forehead. A sudden warm, soft sensation drifted over him and made him feel pleasantly drowsy.

And as she scooped him up in her arms and fled into the portal, his world faded into black.

Reviews= LOVE

(Let me know if you like it, so I can talk to that plot bunny some more, possibly!)


	2. Return

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Devil May Cry or its characters. Capcom does. DAMN IT.

**Rating: **K

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, guys! Breaking Point will come to me and you...eventually.

__

The cool night rushed past her face as she leaped from building to building. Even though the air was rather polluted, it was still much fresher here than in Hell.

The tall skyscrapers' lights twinkled merrily at her, and the streets bustled below her with human activity. And it was only just gearing up, it seemed.

How beautiful the human world was. It was rather unfair, really. They suffocated it and leeched it dry. Didn't they know how lucky they were? Apparently not.

This guy was heavy.

Heavy with hate and fear and regret. How did she know? Well, she just did.

And, man, was he nice to look at.

And his skin tasted nice.

What? She only had a nip or two. He'd never notice, as fast as demons healed, even if he was half.

She was looking for Dante. And that guy was hard to find.

Dark had passed him a couple of times in her many, many, _many _escapades to the human realm. Trillions, if she could remember correctly.

Yeah, so her name was Dark. She hated it. It wasn't original, nor was it pretty.

Dark really wanted a pretty name. She felt it would at least cover up some of her ugliness.

One could say she was as ugly as sin. It would fit, considering the vermin she had to collect on an _eternal _basis.

How she hated herself for being created to do such a thing. If she could, she'd choose to be a human and live and die. Dark couldn't understand why people wanted to be immortal and not die.

Not being able to die was a horrible, terrible curse. She felt every last bit of pain she received, but wouldn't ever have any relief of it. Every weapon passed through her like a hand swiping through smoke, but that certainly didn't mean much.

And she was going to live forever.

Really, that sounded nice. If you weren't doing her job. She was going to do that forever. The only way she would be freed from her post was to be released by her master (s—she always outlived them). And considering what she was capable, they weren't going to allow that to happen.

Dark was going to make Vergil a bargain. A very good one, she thought. Tantalizing enough to make him curious.

If Vergil defeated her master, the top candidate for succession, he would become her master. If he released her from her bonds, she would help him become the emperor of Hell. Dark had lived forever; there were boundless things she could teach him in his quest of power.

Yes, it was best to play on his weakness. His fear of being weak.

It was perfect, really. She's had a long time to mull over it.

Vergil's younger twin's office building grew larger as she raced for it.

Devil May Cry. An odd choice of a name for a demon-hunting business. Dante may make those brainless devils cry? Perhaps. It seemed rather fitting for a guy like Dante.

Dante absolutely fascinated Dark.

He was a rag-tag, rough-around-the-edges guy with a big, soft heart. Contradictions that fit together so perfectly like that were rare. She liked it.

Dante always seemed to notice her when they met, even as she lay hidden in the shadows. He never acted afraid of her, either. Actually, he would just kind of smile as he finished off another slew of demons.

He had a pretty smile. She rather wished somebody would smile at her. Mainly, the people she had to collect had ugly expressions of fear as she slashed their souls from their bodies. Like they didn't know what they were getting into when they sold their souls.

Dante was going to be rather surprised by her package. And probably a little irritated.

She pounced off the side of a building and landed perfectly in front of the worn double-doors. Trying to be polite and inconspicuous, she turned the doorknob.

Locked. He was gone.

Dark sighed irately. And now, she was going to have to do it the hard way.

Her form, along with Vergil's, liquefied into a smoky mist, and she slipped through the large gap in the door as easily as a snake.

She materialized in the front office and gently placed Vergil's sleeping form on Dante's beat-up couch.

He kind of reminded her of an angel. One with a perpetual scowl on his face that made him appear constipated, but an angel all the same.

But it made him seem just a bit more charming. Though, if there was any word anyone would use to describe Vergil, Dark didn't think charming was it. They were more along the lines of arrogant, selfish, and intolerant.

Dark found him rather charming all the same.

Moments later, she caught the sound of a key unlocking a door, and a booted-foot colliding with it.

There Dante stood, guns poised to pump lead into anything that moved.

"Don't worry, Dante. I'm not here to do harm."

The hunter stared suspiciously at her for a few minutes, guns still aimed to kill her. Amusing, right?

Hesitantly, Dante lowered Ebony and Ivory. "Well, babe, I'm glad you know my name, and you're not here to cause a fuss, but I don't know what your name is."

"Dark."

His white eyebrows rose on his forehead. "So...Dark, what brings you here to my lovely office? Need some ass kicked for ya?"

A small smile wormed its way onto her lips. "Actually, I'm here to bring back something you've lost."

His eyebrows this time decided to dip in confusion. "I don't remember losing anything..."

His eyes followed hers, where Vergil, still asleep, lay on the the couch.

Dante's beloved guns clattered to the floor, an expression of pure shock written across his handsome face.

"Why?"

"He is needed here. The Earth is going to need the both of you for what is to come. A young, rich, and very powerful gentlemen has sold himself into a formidable warlock, and his powers are derived from my master. When my master secures his place as emperor of Hell, he's is going to hollow out the boy's body, use it as a container, and conquer this world."

"...Why does that sound familiar?"

"Demons have always been jealous of what they cannot have, and they are greedy enough to try and take it."

"Did the bastard have a grudge against the O Mighty Sparda?" he mumbled sarcastically.

"A detestation that still lasts to this very hour."

Dante heaved a large sigh. "A name?"

"Mephistopheles."

"Will my nerd of a brother know this guy?"

"

Definitely."

"Lovely."

Dark swung her formidable weapon and another blue portal appeared in front of her.

"Hey, where are you going? I need support here!" He jabbed a dramatic finger toward his snoozing twin.

"You're quite capable of facing your brother, Dante. Besides, where he's been, he won't put up much of a fight until he's gained his strength back."

She waved one of her graceful hands, releasing Vergil of his bonds and her sleeping spell.

Dark turned to stare at Dante. "If I don't go back for now, I suffer severe withdrawal. It is not very lovely to gaze upon, I assure you. I wish you luck!"

Before Dante could call her back, however, she had disappeared into the portal.

And Vergil opened his eyes.


	3. Fugitive

**Disclaimer: **DMC belongs to Capcom, its affiliate, and its creators. I take no credit.

**A/N: **Enjoy, dear readers! :D

* * *

She slunk through the dark corners of her master's fortress, desperately hoping that she wouldn't get caught.

He was _not _going to be happy. And he got rather violent when he became angry...

She nearly reached the end of the throne room that led to her chambers when a voice hissed, sickly sweet. "And _exactly _where have you been?"

Dark gracefully pirouetted to face that man that unfortunately controlled her. "Out."

A double-edged blade violently bit into her skin, instantly pining her to the wall several meters away.

"_You know that it is forbidden!" _Mephistopheles growled viciously, his vermilion eyes burning with fury.

"So, it seems I still defy you, go up, and get severely punished. How many times have we been over this, dear master?"

She keeled over when he sharply twisted his blade in her gut. "You will listen to me, Dark. If that means restricting your seal even further, then so be it."

The demoness glared at her master. He had her there. The sensation of being ripped apart wasn't the most pleasant one...

She heaved a helpless sigh. "What is your will, my lord?"

His lips curled into a cruel smile. "I have a little errand for you to run."

Mephistopheles' cruel smile grew into a sadistic grin, and he wrenched his longsword from her abdomen-- none too gently.

Dark collapsed on the marble floor with a threatening growl.

He turned on his booted heel to gaze admiringly at his grand palace. "Go meet my new little human friend. He's sure to provide some entertainment for higher beings like you and me."

"On the contrary, master, I take no pleasure from humans' pain--"

"Just go!"

She smirked in the shadows of her hood. "May I have a name?"

"Quirinus. Make certain he is not plotting against me. He's even more sly than a serpent."

Her shape faded into nothing.

* * *

Thankfully, she didn't have to concentrate all too much on the whispers of this Quirinus's name to locate him. The name was late Roman—and it wasn't a name many people would use, anyway.

She quietly passed through the streets, the few souls on the street not detecting her presence. Though, several shuddered as she skirted past them, and they looked around, wide-eyed.

Those few were going to die soon.

It was an unfortunate thing, really, that they had to pass her and feel as cold and alone as they did when she walked by. And it was how she felt every minute of every day.

She knew that her opposite would escort them above to be judged. And she hoped that they didn't have to be damned an eternity to Hell. It wasn't fun and games. Those she had to reap herself had already sold their eternal souls, so there was no trial or judgment. Only final damnation. Your guaranteed, one-way ticket to the fiery pits of Hell. (She may have sounded like some of those crazed, ranting, raving "preachers," but they were hitting a few very key points.)

And, no, it most definitely isn't a tourist attraction. How did that strange mortal saying go? _Once you go black, you never go back_? In a way, it was like that; immerse yourself in total darkness, and you'll never return intact.

A few more minutes of wandering the finally silent streets, the calling of Quirinus grew louder, rang out to her in the unusual silence. Something was most definitely occurring here...

An ominous, predatory cry burst through the peace, shattering the stillness of the air around her.

Dark drew up her reliable weapon, brandishing it experimentally as it reflected silvery moonlight. It was a demon; a large one, at that. One hundred yards away...

Fifty...

Thirty....

Five...

The skeletal, disfigured creature lunged from the disguise of the bushes. Dingy gray fur clung in bare patches on its cadaverous body. Green slime oozed from is gigantic, gaping jaws as its hollowed eyes glowing an eerie, ravenous shade of scarlet.

Well, a blind person could tell that the demon was quite starved.

With a strange, gravelly chuckle, the creature snapped its open jaws around a calmly standing Dark, exalted by the thought of free food.

Its jaws clamped shut. Nothing was there...

"I'm sorry," a smooth voice called, "It seems that you missed."

It turned to glare hatefully at her, but Dark skillfully lobbed its ugly head off with a flick of her slim wrist.

Applause reached Dark's acute senses, and she turned to gaze at the figure hiding in the shadow of a simple, elegant house a few yards away.

The person emerged from the blackness, revealing a young, handsome man in his early twenties with choppy jet black hair and alluring dark blue eyes.

"Lord Mephistopheles wasn't kidding when he told me you were one of the formidable warriors of Hell."

"...Actually, I would have killed it sooner, but I like to give my fights a little dramatic flair when I am performing in front of spectators."

"How lovely to know--"

"And you were the one that summoned it."

He sighed and delicately raised his hands in the cool night air. "It seems that you caught me. Now, why don't we head inside?"

With a nod of her hooded head, Dark fell into step beside the young man.

Silence encased the darkness once again as they trapezed across Quirinis's extensive lawns and gardens.

Dark's sharp eyesight detected a small quirk of the male's lips, indicating a smirk.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"I never have much to say."

His thin brows furrowed. "Why is that? You are well-versed in many subjects."

She gazed at him for a moment. "When you've lived forever, words don't do much justice."

They soon reached the rich mahogany doors to his grand mansion. He beckoned her inside.

He rubbed his hands together and blew on them to warm them back up. "So, what brings you to my side of town?"

"I'm mainly just checking up on you. You know, making sure none of Hell's assassins have had their sights set on you."

"He suspects I'm up to something, doesn't he?"

She snorted. "He's a demon lord with a lot at stake. What do you expect him to do?"

"I'd much rather have him trust me. I am loyal to him to the end."

Dark nearly burst into hysterical laughter. Was the this mortal _stupid? _Her master would most certainly would not be loyal to him to "the end."

The young male's eyes gleamed with determination. "I will do what every it takes to please him."

Dark couldn't help but heave a sigh. This kid was obviously blind. "Even if it means being hollowed out and used to take over your world? Everything you love?"

His handsome face darkened immediately, a rather animal gleam burning in his eyes. "Everything I love? There is nothing to love on this wretched earth. I would gladly allow myself to become his vessel, only to taste true euphoria. Pure, absolute power. None of these horrible human limitations."

White-hot anger suddenly coursed through her veins, despite Dark's uncanny talent of being slow to anger. Unfortunately, this was the one issue that instantly dug into her skin. Humans were selfish. Terribly, stupidly selfish. They were absolutely dim-witted to what beauty that had been served to them on a silver platter.

Her scythe, Scourge, appeared into her ready hands. "You want to taste real power?" Her words were hissed painstakingly slow, venom oozing from every tiny articulation, "I can give it to you. But you won't like it."

Dark relished the look of terror on his face as she tore into his lean body, shredding his soul into a million little ribbons.

A savage smile contorted her face as she watched the blood from his maimed body spill onto the floor. The metallic, sweet smell of blood hit her full force.

She inhaled deeply. Despite her best attempts, Dark couldn't deny the pleasure that human blood brought her. It was like a drug.

The devil in her was flowing into her conscious, breaking her fastidiously-constructed wall and seducing her with its might. Her senses were kicking into overdrive.

She had destroyed Mephistopheles' main chance to rule over both worlds.

A low, hysterical chuckle slipped from Dark's lips. All in a moment, she had become Hell's worst enemy.

* * *

Vergil sliced another demon into exploding dust cloud. Sweat beaded on his pale forehead, while his normally sleek, pristine locks hung in front of his eyes.

So he had gone out to hunt. Dante had warned him against it, but why in the world would he listen to his idiot younger brother?

Vergil felt an abnormal pang of guilt strike his heart. He knew he was hard on Dante-- called him stupid, weak, overly-endearing.

He knew he was wrong. As much as he loathed to admit it, he had quite a multitude of things he should apologize for.

Fat chance. The great Vergil was a proud creature who didn't apologize for petty, sentimental reasons.

Why, then, did he feel so awful?

With a growl, he tore more demons to shreds with Yamato. He was beginning to get tired.

Back when, Vergil could battle for days without so much as bead of sweat. Within an hour, he could already feel his body begin to give out.

How he hated being half-human.

Honestly, Vergil had loved his mother. But he hadn't been strong enough to protect her. Not her. Not Dante. She had tried to protect her dear boys and died all too easily. And his father wasn't even there to help. He had disappeared into nothing. Nowhere to be found.

Now, he cursed the world and its unfairness with a hoarse cry as he hacked more demons into oblivion.

This wasn't helping. No matter how hard he had tried to suppress his emotions, he was still a sentimental fool.

Vergil collapsed on the ground, exhausted. At least now there would be no demons to disturb his brooding.

A sudden, very distinct presence invaded his _very _personal space. He was abruptly staring into a pair of very ruby eyes.

It was _her. _

A soft growl escaped his throat. "What do you want?" he asked curtly, a sour expression contorting his face.

Her fingers gently slipped under his arms and hoisted him to his feet. "I brought you back. So, I have to ensure your safety. You're going to go back to your brother's."

He scoffed. "No, I'm not."

All thoughts of disobeying her wishes died as her eyes flashed a brighter shade of scarlet. "Yes, you are. If you even think otherwise, I'll tear you limb from limb." Her tone was low and dangerous, made his blood run cold.

"Let us get one thing straight, dear Vergil, I'm not as _nice _as I seem. Unlike you, I'm full-blooded demon, and I will not hesitate to act like it."

Her words were like a slap in the face. Vergil's fists clenched around Yamato's hilt. "Then why bring me back? I'm not here without a _price_."

Dark's stiff stance suddenly collapsed, and her eyes looked weary. She found a small niche and seated herself in it. "Well, the issue used to be my master's new little puppet. Unfortunately, I took care of that."

Vergil merely quirked a frosty brow.

A gleam of regretful bliss lit up her exotic eyes. "I triggered and slaughtered him. Which will now make me an enemy of Hell."

She paused for a moment. "Vergil, unlike you, I am under servitude. Always have been. Always will be."

His eyes narrowed. "And _what_ does your problems have to do with me?"

Her strange eyes dulled. "Self-centered little bastard, aren't you?"

"You're starting to sound like Dante."

"I actually happen to like your brother. He's actually doing something worthwhile."

Vergil growled. "What to you want, you pointless woman?"

A quiet, grim chuckle coursed from her being. Dark suddenly appeared mere inches from Vergil's face, close enough for him to see an outline of a small, delicate nose and full lips from inside her hood.

"I want to be released from my prison. I am growing weary, Vergil. I want to be free from my restraints and _live. _The only way for that to happen is if my master releases me. They never do-- and if they are killed by another, I am always in the victor's service. I want you to defeat my master, Vergil. That would make you my lord. I want you to release me from bonds. You would be able to dominate all of Hell and become a true demon. I have many skills that would be very helpful on your conquest. Restore Hell to its former glory, where devils do not leech on the weak, but fight for their right to rule."

Dark suddenly gasped, as if she had been drowning and was suddenly wrenched from the water. Her now crimson eyes stared at him blankly as she backed slowly away.

And as Dante would say, this was one _freaky_ chick. It absolutely irritated Vergil when Dante's weird quotes would pop up in his thoughts, followed by Dante's irritating, cocky voice.

She backed away for a moment and shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts.

"Come on," she said, "let's take you back. My honor."

Vergil frowned and answered icily. "I am quite capable of escorting myself back."

"You're not the one watching you wobble and shiver like a newborn chick," she answered, unconcealed amusement in her voice. And she was just spilling her guts to him, he thinks irritably, and then acts like he's a tired child that needs to be laid down for a nap.

And rustle of fabric later and Vergil feels much less exposed to the frigid night air. He gazes over to the now uncloaked demoness, and an involuntary shiver licks up his spine. She was the kind of beautiful that could have easily appeared in your softest dreams or most horrible nightmares.

Strangely enough, every one of her features opposed his own. His hair was short, pristine white, and neat. Her hair nearly reached her mid-back, so black it was purple in the moonlight, and in messy, jagged waves like she had chopped at it herself. His facial features were thin and pronounced, while hers were soft and delicate. He was almost as pale as snow, and she was a rich shade of tan, like coffee with a touch of creamer and milk. Icy blue met crimson red.

An impish grin appears on her face, and he's suddenly being scooped into her arms and situated on her back. He growls indignantly, and she whoops, "Hold on!"

She leaps powerfully onto a building and picks up her speed drastically, so they're no more than a blur bounding from building to building. They're going so fast that Vergil actually feels like he left his stomach way back where they were.

So, in a few startling seconds, they were standing in front of Devil May Cry, with its brick facade and short-circuiting neon sign.

Dark releases her grip on Vergil's legs and lets him slide off. She couldn't help but smirk at his pinched expression as he went about sleeking his ruffled hair back and tugging at his clothes, so they would return to their usual position. He jerked at the tie that kept Dark's cloak on his shoulders, allowing it to slide off his shoulders and into his fingers like water.

He shoved it toward her and hissed curtly, "Don't ever do that again."

Dark's smirk grew some more. Was he not the best person in the world to irritate? And it was even better because it wasn't difficult.

She places it back on her shoulders, but didn't complete her usual ritual of closing it or pulling her hood over her head. "I can't exactly promise that I can refrain, but I'll try, just for _you_." Dark allowed the sarcasm to roll from her tongue, especially for the last word.

It came as a surprise to Dark that Vergil's perpetual frown grew even deeper as he skirted past Dark to intrude into his brother's shop.

"Hey, bro! How's it--"

"Shut up, Dante."

Dante rolled his eyes as he gnawed on a piece of fresh pizza. "Whatever you say, Ice Queen."

The demoness watched this interaction with detached interest as she flowed in with the ease of curl of smoke.

Dante's icy blue eyes were instantly magnetized to Dark's athletic form. A cocky smirk slid onto his face. "Excuse me, babe, but have we met before?"

A slim eyebrow rose on Dark's forehead, her expression deadpan. "Yes, Dante, we have."

His head quirked at the sound of her voice. "Hey, it's _you..._What's your name again?" He grinned sheepishly.

"Dark."

Vergil was sitting on his twin's couch, brooding like a total emo kid, observing angrily the banter between Dante, and as he knew now, Dark. Women were...for the lack of a better term, _evil. _Or, one could ask how they changed their moods so often...

Vergil's icy eyes settled on Dark with skepticism as he finally realized what her creator had named her. "That's what he called you?"

The female sighed. "I'm sure you were expecting something rather grand. Lucifer had a talent for creating things but not giving them titles. So, on my very long list of requests, please add that you give me a different name."

Vergil slipped back into contemplative silence as he watched her and Dante chat again. She asked about his pizza, referring to it as _this. _His pizza-greedy brother surprisingly allowed her to try a slice. He watched as she chomped into it, and her eyes lit up in surprise.

"Hey, this _is_ rather tasty..."

And then the pizza is gone a second later, followed by a smug Dark licking her fingers clean of pizza grease. Vergil smirked at Dante's purely devastated expression.

"Hey, Verg, keep this chick away from my food!"

"Oh, cry me a river," she replied to the devil hunter. "You'll learn to act faster if you want it."

Vergil said nothing as Dante continued with his complaining while Dark laughed at him.

He wondered at he stared at the demoness with a thousand moods-- _What did he get himself into? _

* * *

Okay, so, all in all. This was suckage. xD;; My angsting sucks; my descriptions sucks. _Help me?_ **So, anyway, be kind to us lifeless authors by reviewing, kthx! :D**


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